by Nan Ryan
Shaken by the emotions the romantic dance had evoked, Kay felt Sullivan’s breath against her hair. “Okay, carry out our plan.”
She could only nod as he released her. In a daze, she sidled out of the ballroom, down the carpeted corridor and into the lively casino. Stopping at the row of slot machines where she’d told Sullivan she’d meet him, Kay leaned against one of the tall one-armed bandits and cast her attention to a dice table twenty feet away.
Drawn by the shouting, excited players standing around the big, green felt table, Kay walked over, took some bills from her evening bag and bought some five-dollar chips. She dropped one on the pass line and squealed when, on the come out, the shooter, a short, stocky man with a cigar clamped firmly between his teeth, tossed the red dice the length of the table and they rolled over onto eleven.
Childishly clapping her hands, Kay picked up her won money, leaving the original chip. A charming, British tuxedoed croupier standing to her right turned toward her and said softly, “Not only beautiful, but lucky, too, sweetheart?” His green eyes flashed at her, and he added very quietly, “I get off at 4:00 a.m.”
“Good for you.” Sullivan’s deep voice sounded clipped. Stepping in between Kay and the croupier, he said possessively, “‘Sweetheart’ here will be in bed long before then.” He took Kay’s elbow and drew her away from the table.
Kay loved Sullivan’s obvious flash of jealousy, but said, “My money, Sullivan. I’ve got five dollars riding on the pass line.”
“I’ll reimburse you.” He looked pointedly at the impudent croupier. “If she wins, the take’s yours. It’s all you’ll ever get from her, understand?”
His features hard, Sullivan guided Kay through the busy casino and out a pair of French doors at the side. Down marbled steps and into a tropical garden they strolled, the full moon lighting the lush, manicured grounds.
His hand was holding her upper arm and he continued to walk her farther from the hotel, past the lighted empty swimming pool, down more steps and to the beach.
Finally he spoke. “Let’s walk on the beach.”
“I’d love to,” Kay said and immediately amended, “but I can’t, I’ll get sand in my shoes.”
“Take ’em off.”
“It’s not just the shoes, Sullivan, what about my hose?”
Sullivan unbuttoned his jacket and thrust a hand into his pocket. “So take them off, too.”
“But they’re pantyhose and I’m not wearing—that is—” Kay felt herself blushing hotly.
“Look around you, Kay. There’s no one on the beach. I’ll turn my back. You slip out of your pantyhose and we’ll walk along the sand in the moonlight.” The tightness had left his mouth and he was smiling.
“Turn around,” she said, handing him her shoes. Sullivan, the shoes over a thumb, turned away from her, looking out over the restless sea. Kay, nervously casting worried eyes all around her, slid the silky pantyhose down over her hips and legs, hopping on one foot to take them off. Letting her skirt drop, she stood with the wadded hose in her hands and felt dangerously exposed. She wore nothing but the white crepe dress, and the breeze coming in off the ocean gently molded the filmy dress to her slender body.
Debating already how she could get back to her hotel room without relinquishing all modesty, Kay heard Sullivan say, exasperated, “I could have undressed completely by now.” He turned around, saw the strained look on her pretty face and assured her, “Kay, you will not see anyone tonight.” He took the hose and stuffed them in his suit pocket. “When we get back to the hotel, we’ll use the entrance nearest your room and I’ll run interference for you, so relax.”
She did. It was a gorgeous, perfect night. Waves crashed in on the shore with lulling repetition. The moon turned the white sands to crystals of shiny silver. Soft, tickling breezes lifted strands of Kay’s long, feathered hair, making her raise her free hand to push it from her eyes. The other small hand was held securely in Sullivan’s.
They walked for a long way down the deserted beach, talking little, drinking in the beauty surrounding them, enjoying each other’s company and the unspoken closeness between them. Kay felt her heart lurch with happiness when finally Sullivan said, “It’s time we go in.”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, the soft, filmy dress, driven by the night winds, caressing her naked body, arousing her, teasing at flesh that craved the tall, dark man beside her.
They were at the door of her hotel room. Kay fumbled with the key, eager to open the portal to complete bliss. She turned and looked expectantly up at Sullivan, dropping the key back into her evening bag. Sullivan picked up her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed the warm palm.
“Kay.” His voice was husky.
“Yes?” Hers was breathless.
“Good night,” he said. And handing her the silver shoes, he turned and walked away.
Eight
Stunned and unbelieving, Kay stood motionless, feeling her stomach knot painfully beneath the soft crepe of her evening dress. Hand cold and stiff, she slowly closed the door, dropped the shoes and valiantly fought back the sob welling up in her throat. She crossed the floor to the opposite side of the room.
Kay drew open the slatted double doors leading onto the private balcony that overlooked the white sand beach and the restless sea beyond. She stepped, barefooted, out onto the high balcony and made no effort to lift her hand when flower-scented breezes tossed her long, loose hair into her face. Kay stood alone in the moonlight, her slender body trembling with need. Tears of hurt and pain stung at the backs of her eyes.
The breeze off the ocean was cool. It gently stroked her, as though generously offering its soothing, healing help to the sad young woman clinging to the iron-lace railing, her body afire, her longing a real and painful ache, her frustration and heartache unbearable.
Kay whirled and went back inside, anxiously stripping the soft dress from her heated body. She turned on no lamps. None were necessary. Through the open balcony doors moonlight sliced the big room exactly in half. The room’s bed, its covers turned down by the maid, rested half in, half out of the penetrating light. While the fluffy pillows at the headboard were barely visible in the dark shadows, the lower portion of the bed with its folded-back white sheets lay in silvery light as bright as day.
It was the darkness that Kay sought. Tears now sliding down her cheeks, she stood in the shadows and discarded the beautiful white dress, letting it slide down her naked breasts and hips to the floor, discarding it along with her dreams. Ignoring the yellow knee-length terry-cloth robe draped across the foot of the bed, Kay walked into the adjoining bath, snatching a plastic shower cap from the hook by the mirrored medicine cabinet.
Hastily shoving her hair up under the cap, caring little that a few heavy strands remained clinging to her neck, unprotected, she stepped into the shower, jerked the curtains closed and twirled the cold-water faucet full open. Cold, pelting water hissed upon bare, heated flesh.
It did little good.
When Kay stepped from the cold shower ten minutes later, her body temperature may have been a little lower, but the clawing need deep in her stomach remained. She was listlessly patting at her wet body when she heard the soft knock on her door. Sudden confusion mixed with panic and hope. Body still damp, Kay grabbed for the robe while the knock came once again.
“I’m coming,” she said, heart pounding in her chest, and rushed to the door. She was turning the knob when she remembered she still wore the drenched shower cap. She pulled it from her head, rushed to drop it in the lavatory and realized in despair that her long hair lay in damp, untidy disarray around her shiny face.
Running nervous fingers through the tangled mane, she lowered her hands, jerked frantically at the sash of her robe, took a shallow breath and said, “Who is it?”
“Sullivan,” was the firm, one-word response.
Stifling a gasp, Kay opened the door.
He stood there, raised hands clasping either side of the door frame. The elega
ntly tailored tuxedo jacket was gone. The white shirt was unbuttoned down his chest, the long tail hanging outside his trousers, sleeves rolled up over his arms. His feet were bare. Unruly black hair looked as though a nervous male hand had been raking repeatedly through it.
Sullivan said nothing. One hand finally left the door-jamb, went to his pants pocket and brought out a pair of silky pantyhose. He slowly held them out toward her.
“Oh,” Kay said, looking up at his dark, unreadable face. “Thank you. I…I forgot.” She lifted her hand, took the hose and automatically moved a step backward, pulling the door completely open.
For an interminable time, Sullivan stood there in the doorway, saying nothing, his burning eyes devouring her.
“Kay,” he finally managed, and it was no more than a strangled whisper.
“Yes, Sullivan?” She held her breath.
He moved into the room. He closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving her. “Kay, I…I hurt. I hurt so bad, baby. Help me. Hold me.”
A flood of love and happiness washed over her as she murmured softly, “Oh, my darling,” and stepped into his embrace, flinging her protective, eager arms up around the strong column of his neck.
Sullivan leaned to her and his arms enclosed her, desperately pressing her warm, willing body up to his tall, hard length. “Love me, honey. Please, love me. Kay,” he gasped thickly against her sweet-smelling damp hair.
“Dear God,” Kay marveled aloud in muffled awe against his shoulder. “You care. Sul, you still care.”
“I said I’d care forever—” he slid a lean hand up to cradle her head, gently pulling it back so that he could look at her “—and I meant forever, Kay.” His eyes were filled with love and desire.
“My Sul.” She looked up at him, her blue shining eyes mirroring her happiness and relief.
“Kiss me, Kay. Kiss away all my pain. Love me.”
His mouth slowly descended to hers. Kay watched not his mouth, but his eyes, as warm, parted lips gently settled on hers. She shivered as she saw those dark eyes closing in ecstasy, the long, sweeping lashes fluttering down to tickle her sensitive cheeks. Then her eyes also closed as she surrendered totally to the masterful mouth moving hungrily upon hers.
Sullivan was gently nipping at the soft flesh inside her bottom lip, teeth raking playfully, before he sucked the lip into his mouth for an instant. He released it, kissed the left corner of her open lips and said against her cheek, “Kay, sweet, I want to kiss you all night long. I want to kiss you enough to make up for all the years I starved for the taste of you.”
His mouth moved back to hers, his tongue sweeping across her small, even teeth, then sliding into the darkness behind them. Kay clung to his neck and let the warmth in her body and his rise unchecked while his hot tongue explored the tingling, sensitive inside of her open mouth. It was his to invade, his to claim, his to taste and drink from.
Sullivan did just that. His lips, teeth and tongue possessed the sweet, dark cavern of her mouth. He took his time, intent on drawing all the honey from her, feeding ravenously on the sweetness he was starving for, could not get enough of, could no longer live without.
When at last his mouth reluctantly separated from hers, Sullivan lifted a hand to push aside the scratchy terry robe’s lapel from Kay’s left shoulder. He lowered his burning lips to the gentle curve of her neck and shoulder, kissing the warm, clean flesh.
Nibbling there, he murmured huskily, “Oh, Kay, my only love, I want to kiss you all night and all over.” Gently he bit her neck. “I want to kiss your nipples and your navel and your knees.” His open lips pressed ever hotter caresses to the side of her throat while she trembled happily against him and felt she would surely burst into flames from his words as well as his kisses.
Sullivan lifted his head. “And I want you to kiss me, too, baby. I want your gleaming little mouth to claim mine, to drive me wild as only you know how. Will you do that for me?”
Kay, her hands locked behind his head, pantyhose still clutched tightly in slim fingers, said breathlessly, “Lower your head and I’ll show you.”
Sullivan eagerly bent his head as Kay stood on tiptoe and began slowly, teasingly kissing his full mouth. Her lips played with his, nibbling, licking, withdrawing, finally twisting provocatively. Kay ran the tip of her tongue along the inside of his upper lip and Sullivan sighed into her mouth and pressed her closer, his hands spreading on her robed back.
She made him wait no longer. Kay opened her mouth wide and brazenly darted her tongue deep into his mouth. She felt him shudder against her and felt powerful and happy and grateful all at the same time. She explored and savored just as he had done and swayed contentedly against him when his tongue met and mated with hers.
They continued to stand there kissing in the moonlight, their breath growing increasingly labored and loud, their bodies growing hotter and hungrier. Sullivan’s mouth never left Kay’s, but he gently pulled her arms from around his neck, took the pantyhose from her clenched fingers and dropped them to the carpet. He placed her empty hand inside his open shirt, directly over his hammering heart. The feel of his warm, hair-covered flesh beneath her hand added new fire to Kay’s burning body and she wrenched her mouth from his and began to frantically shove the white, rumpled shirt down from his wide shoulders, over his long arms and off.
Inflamed by the sight and scent of him, Kay, her blue eyes glazing, leaned to him and began to press heated lips to the broad, dark chest, murmuring, “I want to kiss you all over, too, Sul. All over, all over.”
“Yes, my darling,” he was saying from over her head while his hands worked at the stubborn knotted sash of her terry robe. Kay let him handle it expertly. Never bothering to disturb her obsessive kissing of his wide, hair-roughened chest, Sullivan deftly managed to maneuver one slender arm, then the other, from the robe. So caught up was Kay with the hard male chest she was busily caressing, she hardly knew when the robe slipped away.
Suddenly she became very aware of her nudity. Sullivan’s warm, sure hands were pressing her close, his fingertips gliding down her naked spine to the small of her back. Kay’s lips lifted from his chest and she looked up at him.
“I love you, Kay Clark,” he said and pulled her closer. Thick, black curly hair tickled the full, swelling breasts he’d exposed. The contact was warm and wonderful. Kay’s already tingling, tautened nipples responded instantly to the feel of the strong male chest, pleasantly abrasive, rubbing against her as Sullivan kissed her once again.
Kay stood naked against the man she loved and kissed him and kissed him and was never quite certain how they arrived at the bed. Did they walk to it? Did Sullivan carry her? She couldn’t recall. She knew only that her head now rested on the soft, fat pillows in the darkness and that the sheets were cool and clean beneath her bare, hot body.
Sullivan was stretched out beside her, his handsome face barely visible above hers in the darkness. A long, heavy leg was resting over her own; she could feel the smooth, slick fabric of his pants against her naked thighs and wondered fleetingly why he still had them on.
“Kay,” he was saying, a hand raking through her hair, “there’s not been one week, one day, one hour that I did not miss you.”
“It’s been the same for me, Sul. I swear it.”
“Has it, sweet?” His lips were scattering worshipful kisses over her flushed cheeks, her damp temples, her quivering chin, her fluttering eyelids. “Say it then, Kay. Say you love me. Tell me, please.” A lean hand moved down to caress a swelling, ripe breast.
“Sul, I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I belong to you, now and forever.”
The hand at her breast tightened upon tender flesh. A finger circled the tight little crest and Kay sighed with pleasure. “Oh, honey,” he whispered in the darkness, “I love you, too. So much. So much I…” His hand released the breast and moved down to her narrow waist as his mouth again took hers in a deep, drugging kiss.
While the fingers of one hand tang
led in her long hair, holding her mouth to his, the other hand continued to glide tenderly down her body, slipping around a bare hip, fingers spreading upon the soft rounded cheek of her bare bottom. He shifted, pressing her closer to him, letting her feel the throbbing heat behind his zipper, while his tongue went deep into her mouth and his chest pressed heavily upon her breasts.
For a long while they stayed in that position, taunting each other, pleasuring each other, savoring every magical, mystical step on the erotic road to fulfillment. Into each other’s mouths they murmured love words.
Sullivan lifted his head. His eyes flashed at Kay and he pulled from her embrace. Kay watched, enraptured as he rose from the bed. She heard the zipper slide down, squinted to see as he took off his dark tuxedo pants and tossed them over a chair. He was only a large, shadowy figure; Kay could make out little save the powerful contours of his strong, male body: the chiseled, wide shoulders, the flat belly, the long legs.
The moonlight that slashed into the room covered only the lower half of the bed. Sullivan was undressing by the head of the bed. Kay’s eyes stayed on him and she guiltily wished that he’d move down into the light. Kay glanced down the length of the bed. Only her slim legs shown in the moonlight, sliced off midway up her thighs.
“Kay.” His velvety voice was very deep and loving.
“Yes?” She squinted back in his direction.
Sullivan’s arm came out of the darkness. He reached for and found her hand. Gently he pulled her up to kneel on the bed. Kay, her entire body now awash in the moonlight, breathed shallowly, sat back on her heels and saw Sullivan step out of the darkness and into the light. He placed a bent knee on the bed behind her, leaned down and gave her mouth a kiss. When their lips separated, he put a hand to the silvery crown of her head and gently pulled it against his chest. He let her head rest there for a time while he bent over her, kissing the silky hair atop her head.
Sullivan did it for a reason. Kay took advantage of it, just as he’d intended.